You've Got Mail and Oatmeal Cream Pies

I haven't blogged in a while. I just started my sophomore year here at ISU, you know. And I had a boyfriend. Had a boyfriend. It's funny how life happens that way. I was so over men, but some little part of my just wanted to belong to someone. And for the first time, I don't really want that at all. I'm about to honey badger all over the penis shit. I had to be hurt this way to see it, though.

I mean. I broke up with Kyle. I lived on that end, and it's shitty. Being Summer sucks. And Drew? I wanted him so, so badly. But I finally came to terms with the reality that he did not want me back--and time nor space would change that. And that broke my heart in one kind of way. It was a consistent throb that I became comfortable with; it began to feel normal. I was okay with the ache. It went from hurtful, to tolerable, to almost enjoyable... but with a little help from Ms. Beasley, I realized for the first time that I was being used. We were using each other really. I think a little more therapy will reveal the roles we played for one another. Who knows. But when I finally got there, I just kind of let go. One day I drove into town on a break, and I didn't text him the whole time. I didn't even think about it. It was kind of an epiphany. I was really over him.

And right now I want to text him so badly.

That's just a sign of how unhealthy that whole business was. And then Jacob. We moved way too quickly. I was a rebound. And some shy part of my brain knew that a long time ago, but I was just so excited that I ignored all of that. I was so happy to have found someone I had so much in common with, who promised to love me despite my crazy, who said nice things, and who bought me flowers... I was so happy that I ignored the shit in my brain warning me to slow down, to read him better before I opened up. But I kept thinking that with time, we'd grow close enough that the speed wouldn't make a difference. It would just end in the same place: a relationship. I thought the road there wouldn't make a difference...

And it's not that I'm so sad about the relationship. No good relationship ends in a breakup, right? But, I've never been broken up with before. It kind of took me off guard. I expected we'd talk it out and keep going... but I sensed what was coming. I didn't want to be drug around. I just yanked it out of his ass. If I'm not mistaken, he'd expected to get drunk and make an ass of himself so I'd do it for him. I sure can pick 'em.

And this is what I said to Shannon earlier while we watched You've Got Mail, ate oatmeal cream pies and pretzels, and drank warm Jones Sodas, I said, "it's not that I have bad taste. I like good guys. I like smart guys. I like really cool guys! I just don't like guys who like me." And she nodded. Because it's true. Jacob isn't a bad guy at all. And even though I'm pretty pissed at him right now, I know that will pass, and it'll be easier to acknowledge that he's not bad. He just didn't really like me that much. I'm glad it was over before I could get any more invested.

So. I know I'm coming across as pretty healthy right now. Maybe I am. But I'm crying as I type this. And I'd been trying to sleep for an hour before I finally decided to write instead. My heart was beating fast, like I'd been running, and I felt a little like punching something, which would not actually make me feel that much better. So I decided on this instead.

Tomorrow I'll go to Waycross. It's brilliant timing. He actually kind of broke up with me by saying that someone else was taking him home. The first thought I had was? Wtf? Did he just break up with me? and then I thought camp it is then, motherfuckers. I'm still pretty overwhelmed. I'm going to try to sleep again anyway. I'll probably have more to say tomorrow.

So as a good night:
"No one will remember you, Joe Fox. And maybe no one will remember me either. But plenty of people remember my mother. And they think she was fine, and that her store was something special. You are nothing but a suit."
Also: Thank you Kelsie Jo, Cydney, Mom, Shannon, and Sara. You all are my saving graces. I don't know what I'd do without you.
<3 Chicks before dicks.

A text from Chantel:

Idk if you know this but Superman is dumping Lois Lane for Wonder Woman. Apparently Wonder Woman has been after Superman since 1988. DC is basically making her look like a home-wrecking slut.

This, right here is why I love my friends.

Crazy Owl Lady Move-In

A while ago I moved into my quad. It's beautiful, and everything is exactly like I wanted it. It's a little cluttered, but with plenty of room to move. I have reminders of camp, home, and family, and things that make me smile. Oh, and owl shit EVERYWHERE. I didn't think that I'd be able to fit all my owl things in here, so I left most of them at home. But I have WAY MORE ROOM for my statuettes and pictures and whatever else I have... so I'm totally bringing them next time I go home.

In every community there's a weird, old lady who lives alone and smells like old people, and develops some strange obsessive-compulsive interest in some collection Sometimes it's cats, or shoes, or crocheted fruits... I'll be the owl lady. I'll have them everywhere--collected from my sorority-girl days. And then I'll go on hoarders and all my sisters will totally deny me.

Okay. So I moved in most of my things then went back home and bitched about wanting to be back in my quad, because I was whiny and period-y, but at some point I sucked up and stayed because I was going to need help with my last load anyway--a super-attractive trait, right?  I drove Ian around and I drove myself around. And then the goddam tornado hit my town. Whyyyyy?! So, I was stuck in Marshall waiting the storm out. The winds were way too high for me to drive and I'm pretty sure the whole town was flooding. So I ate Reese's Pieces (am I the only one that pronounces that reesees peesees?) and watched nature tear Marshall to shreds, like some cheap, disaster of a disaster movie.

When things slowed down a bit more, I was ready to head back over, but I had no gas. All the gas stations in Marshall were closed down because no one had power. So, of course, I ran out of gas on the way to Terre Haute. When I finally got to Terre Haute, exhausted and hungry, Grandma's car alarm started to go off in front of the Saratoga. And I laughed so hard I had to squat on the sidewalk. It was just like Nashville all over again. This time Jim knew what to do, though. So it was less disastrous. And somehow, right on Wabash Ave. the only people that came out to check on us were the people at the hookah lounge. Good job, Terre Haute.

But eventually we got to eat, and I finished moving in. I was just so happy to be in my room, and I was so happy that everything fit. I enjoyed the alone time. That was short-lived, of course. I'm an extrovert and unless I'm blogging (talking on the interwebz), or texting (talking with finger-words), or reading (pretending someone is talking to me), I can't handle it. So, I enjoyed the first few minutes of that, but since then, I've gotten antsy. I'm hanging out with new people. A boy :) And my old friends, new friends, and quadmates.

Speaking of quadmates, how do 5 girls go through so much toilet paper so quickly? I just bought some, but I'm not buying any more until I see three packages from other ladies. Jeez. It doesn't help I'm a total TP snob. I like me the soft stuffs. I'm loving finding my routine, but I'm still anxious about all of it. First day (week in my case) jitters, I suppose. I'm trying to stay on top of homework and maintaining my sanity. One of those things is subjective...

Yup. That's a Bean Blossom shirt.

Facebook and Fanny Packs

For sorority recruitment, we all had to deactivate our Facebook pages. Whoah. My whole world feels a little different right now. And I'm really okay with it. I feel a little bit... free? I have to limit my Facebook usage! This feels kind of like camp--like a weight's been lifted from my shoulders.

I ask only that you guys share my posts to Facebook in my absence.

So. Now for the real post.

Katlyn sent me her Vera Bradley fanny pack in the mail today. She is so incredibly generous. You may think it's weird I'm so excited about this. But I think it's one of those camp inside jokes. Except there's not really a joke--it's just something camp people get. BUT IT'S CRAZY EXCITING. I can't wait for an excuse to wear it. I wrote her a thank you card. I've had so much fun with all my letters!

Kisses.

Met an old friend on the street yesterday...

The Value in Letter-Writing

We have a great gift past generations lived without. When I want to talk to my mom, I can call her, and assume that she will answer or call back. Immediate satisfaction. I can have an entire conversation via text message telling all my girlfriends, in a group message, how a date went. They can immediately ask questions, and likewise, I respond immediately with all the juicy details. I use my cell phone all the time to talk to friends and family; to quickly tell them I love them, or relay bad news.

But letters. What happened to letters?

When I pass the computer table, I always peek in hopes of seeing my name printed in pen on an envelope. When I do see my name, I get super excited. My shoulders shoot straight up to my ears, I make silent, happy claps, and I hop from foot to foot. I don’t think I’m the only person that likes letters or cards. Everyone gets a little excited! It takes no real effort to send a text message. It’s become part of our lives. You can do it standing up, sitting down, on a bus, on the toilet, under your desk in class… and we’re so good at it now. I’ve come to expect that a person respond to my text within the next five minutes. But there’s nothing special about that.

Letters are different. You have to sit down with something to write with, and something to write on. You have to correct your own spelling and grammar mistakes. And since you’re there, you feel compelled to say more thoughtful things. In order to fill up that space, you come up with more to talk about. And you don’t just relay those things that happen to you, do you? You talk about the way they made you feel. Sometimes I write a letter and I learn things about myself that I hadn’t taken the time to notice. I don’t believe I can say the same for texting.

And when you start writing, back and forth, back and forth… you start to get excited about your next letter! You’re waiting and you start to anticipate that response. And when it comes you feel somehow relieved that they still care, and that they can still find you. And that response! In that time you’ve thought of so much to tell them! You’ve done so many cool things, and met some strange people…

What about letters? What happened to them?

Just because we have the option of immediate satisfaction, doesn’t mean we can’t still practice patience. It doesn’t mean we can’t stop to make an effort to tell someone how much they mean to us. It doesn’t mean we can’t feel a sense of satisfaction when we read our name on the envelope.

Amanda sent us post cards.

Write me a letter, friends. I promise I’ll write you back.

My Quiz

The Quiz by Hello Saferide was easily my favorite song a few months ago. I listened to it on repeat, and it brought up questions in my mind. What would my own quiz consist of? Her list was clever and raw. It defined her hopes and expectations as well as her fears upon entering a new relationship. I sensed a cautious kind of "next step." You could tell she'd been hurt, and she was a little scared, but she was moving forward regardless. I think we all have an unspoken list of requirements for potential partners. Most people haven't put those requirements into words, which can kind of suck. Some offended or hurt when their unspoken rules are broken. Or they just don't find someone worth having, because those standards aren't clear enough in their minds. But I know those standards, those hopes, are in our hearts--silent. So I'm giving those feelings a voice. Here's my quiz:

If you want this...

you better love this.

1. Do you like Harry Potter, and which house are you in?
2. Are you willing to do the dishes, if I'm willing to do the laundry?
3. Can you put away your phone when we're together?
4. and can you call me when you know I'm anxious, and text me good morning?
5. Can you tolerate my bitchiness when I'm premenstrual, and find the ibuprofen when I'm there?
6. Can you watch you've got mail over and over and over and over and over and over...
7. Can you be good to my friends, and love my family like your own?
8. Will you take me on adventures?
9. Do you like kids, and do they like you?
10. Can you remind me to take my meds, and handle me when I forget?
11. Will you sing with me in the car, and attempt to learn the Waycross songbook?
12. Will you turn off the air and roll down the windows?
13. Do you wear glasses, and do you like mine?
14. Will you learn to love Waycross as I do?
15. Do you care if I don't wear makeup or fix my hair? Will you think I'm pretty anyway?
16. Will you make me a friendship bracelet?
17. Will you sit on the fence, or jump fences for me?
18. How far left do you lean, and what is your stance on God?
19. Are you creeped out by pansexuality, and how do you define yourself?
20. Do you like string band music?
21. Will you read books with me, then discuss them over coffee?
22. Will you hold the door for me, but let me hold the door for you?
23. Will you hold my hand through finals?
24. Are you feminist?
25. Will you give me massages, and will you cuddle on the couch?
26. Will you write me letters when we're apart?
27. Will you watch every single episode of Buffy and Dark Angel without making fun of the terrible writing? Oh, and will you be nice even when I accidentally tell you the ending?
28. Will you be my date at all my sorority dances?
29. Will you only say love when you mean it?
30. What are your standards?

I'm curious to know what you want from a relationship. Tell me in the comments.

Here's the song I was talking about.